


Savior

by Rocky_T



Series: Shades of Gray [3]
Category: Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23288035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rocky_T/pseuds/Rocky_T
Summary: Seven receives an SOS.
Relationships: Hugh | Third of Five & Seven of Nine, Icheb & Seven of Nine, Kathryn Janeway & Seven of Nine
Series: Shades of Gray [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651849
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	Savior

**Author's Note:**

> This story continues my "Shades of Gray" series, following "Talk to Me Like Lovers Do."
> 
> Many thanks to Seema for the beta.

Seven was drinking bourbon when the alert came through. One of the medallions – specialized comm chips given out by the Rangers to those they helped - had been activated.

The bourbon burned as it went down, leaving a pleasant warmth in her chest. She drank to forget, but try as she might, she could never forget the horror of that day 14 years ago when she’d held Icheb’s blood-soaked body as he died.

When she’d killed him, in response to his desperate pleas to put him out of his misery. Her blood still ran cold as she remembered what they’d done to him, how they hadn’t just tapped him for nanoprobes, but how they’d carved him up for parts. While he was still alive.

She downed another shot. As she’d sworn, she’d avenged his death, made those responsible pay. She recalled Bjayzl’s expression when she’d realized the jig was up and she had nowhere left to run, saw the sheer terror on her face as her former lover pulled the trigger and blew her to kingdom come.

Seven wasn’t proud of what she’d done, but it had been necessary. A rabid dog needed to be put down, and there was nothing wrong with that. In fact, it was a laudable action – remove the possibility of harm to anyone else. 

Mowing down Bjazl’s entire staff, every living soul in the casino – that was another story. Seven had lost control, and her only excuse was that she’d been driven to it, by Bjayzl’s heinous crimes. When Seven returned to the Rangers’ base afterward and announced what she’d done, she’d emphasized the necessity of making sure there was no chance of reprisal; there was no one left alive.

Seven downed another shot, but she couldn’t repress a shudder at the memory of her actions on Freecloud. She hadn’t been raised that way – if you counted her time on _Voyager_ as her formative years, when she’d truly grown from the frightened child she’d been when she was first assimilated. It was under Captain Janeway’s tutelage that she’d finally come into her own. Janeway would have insisted that revenge was not the answer, would have argued her back from the brink. Seven’s lip curled as she recalled the times that Janeway herself had been pushed to the edge - and beyond. No need to go any further than the example of Noah Lessing and the _Equinox_ , or the countless other times Janeway had reacted when one of her own was threatened. Seven lifted her glass in tribute to her former mentor, in acknowledgement that they were more alike than Janeway would ever have dreamed.

The alert sounded again, and Seven closed her eyes, concentrated on the nanoprobe action needed to bring her back to full sobriety. She staggered to her feet, already feeling her coordination improving, her thought processes becoming clearer. After 90 seconds, all that was left of her drinking bout was a pounding headache, and the ache deep inside that never went away.

She tracked down the source of the SOS – the Artifact. Her mouth tightened. It was from Hugh, and if he felt the necessity to summon her, the situation must be dire. No surprise, really. She recalled her earlier words to him.

_“I don’t understand why you want to take up residence on the cube. One would think you’d have had enough of all things Collective.”_

_“The Collective is gone. All that’s left is the cube, and thousands of Borg who’ve suddenly been severed from the Collective. I can help the exBs, Seven. I’m uniquely situated to do so, because I truly understand what they’ve been through and what they need.”_

_“ExBs,” Seven said. “There’s so much more to you than the fact you were once Borg, Hugh. Why do you persist in defining yourself that way?”_

_Hugh smiled sadly. “That’s how the rest of the galaxy perceives us, Seven.”_

_She returned to the subject at hand. “So you’re dedicating your life to helping them.”_

_"Not so different than what you’re doing.”_

_“You help the former Borg. I help whoever needs my services.”_

_“Not so different,” he said again._

_She tried a different tactic. “But the Romulans – I still don’t understand why **they** are the ones in charge of a Borg cube.” _

_“They were the ones who discovered it, and claimed it as salvage. They’re willing to work together with us in reclaiming the exBs.”_

_“In reclaiming their Borg hardware.” Seven’s voice grew harsh. “In salvaging them for their parts.”_

_Hugh shrugged. “Part of the process of reclaiming your humanity is to rid yourself of the cybernetic implants that are not essential to sustaining your organic systems. The exBs don’t need those prosthetic limbs or sensory organs anymore, Seven. Why shouldn’t the Romulans have them?”_

In the present, Seven strengthened her resolve and went in search of Delia.

In the loose hierarchy that made up the Fenris Rangers, Delia was the closest thing Seven had to a superior officer – or a friend. She found Delia in the Mess Hall, reading a PADD, a cup of gently steaming tea in hand. 

“I need a ship,” Seven said bluntly.

“You _had_ a ship,” Delia said without looking up. “I believe you destroyed it above Vashti.”

“Carrying out a rescue of the _La Sirena_ , as you are well aware.” Seven waited a few seconds before repeating, “I need a ship.”

Delia put down her PADD and sighed. “You mean, you need _my_ ship.”

“Yes. It’s the most maneuverable, and in good repair.”

“Just finished undergoing a complete overhaul of the plasma relays,” Delia agreed. “And fixing the damage to the ablative armor.”

“Most importantly, it’s here and it’s available.”

“I see.” Delia gave her a penetrating glance. “Where are you taking it?”

In response, Seven held up the medallion.

Delia whistled in recognition. “The Artifact. You’re going to need some more firepower if you’re taking on the Romulans.”

“Stealth and speed are more important,” Seven said. “I would need more than a single ship if I intended to fight my way out of this one.”

“Just don’t blow up my ship, Seven,” Delia said, returning to her reading.

“Picard owes me a new one,” Seven said as she strode toward the door. “If I die, it’s yours.”  
***  
On the Artifact, Seven followed the medallion’s homing beacon. Chaos reigned aboard the cube; she tapped into the internal comm system to understand what was going on. _Intruder alert. Security teams to sector 47._ As she approached that area, she saw a lone figure desperately fending off attacks by multiple Romulans. Interestingly, he did not appear to be armed with a phaser but with a sword. The odds were against him; he would be overwhelmed in exactly 1.3 seconds. Seven lifted her own sidearm and fired. 

She didn’t wait for the guards to finish falling as she advanced. As she suspected, it was Elnor at the center of the fray. Picard’s young Romulan protégé, the astonishingly naïve boy who had been part of the landing party on Freecloud. 

“Where is Hugh?” Seven said tersely as she checked their surroundings for more enemies. “And what is going on aboard this cube?”

Instead of answering, Elnor enveloped her in a hug, clearly relieved to see her. Taken by surprise, Seven stood stiffly and was glad when Elnor released her.

“Hugh’s dead,” Elnor said, clearly trying to keep his voice steady. He was not entirely successful. “The Romulans killed him.” He went on to recount what had happened, with an admirable economy of words.

“Why didn’t you go with Picard?” Seven asked, as they made their way to the queen cell.

“Because I found a cause even more lost than his,” Elnor replied. His eyes met hers.

For an instant, Seven found herself back in time, meeting the intent gaze of another young boy, newly separated from the Collective, and afraid. She swallowed; Icheb had been about 25 standard years of age when he’d been murdered. Elnor appeared to be approximately the same age, if not a bit younger, and he was looking at her with the same intensity, the same combination of fear at the present situation and trust that she would make everything all right.

She hadn’t been able to save Icheb. But now she focused her attention on the one she _could_ save.

“This way,” she said. “All is not lost. There is much that we can do.”


End file.
